


In the Panther's Keep

by EmberSparks



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Body Worship, Exploration, Hand Jobs, Hot Tub, M/M, MCU Rair Pair, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Penetrative Sex, T'chucky - Freeform, WinterPanther - Freeform, rair pair, softcore, very gentle, winter soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 05:46:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmberSparks/pseuds/EmberSparks
Summary: Being the King has its tribulations.T'Challa has been turning to his quiet companion for solace more and more often in these hectic days. Even if their companionship is unspoken and unseen. Even if he constantly fears pushing too much. It seems, the White Wolf might be willing to take just another small step forward in their growing bond.





	In the Panther's Keep

 

King T’Challa leaned back into the bubbling water, sighing as he tried to get the heat to relax his stiff muscles. Stiff, not sore, from spending all day sitting in the throne room. 

He could only hash out the same issues so many times. He valued the input of the tribes...but like any collection of powerful persons in one room, the discussion tended to go in circles. Drawing old issues and feuds kept over long histories together.

T’Challa’d had enough. 

He rolled his shoulders, laying back against the cool floor, attempting not to knock over the bottles of perfumes and essences that scented the steaming air around him.

He felt exhausted and wound up all at once. And there was only one person he wanted to see in a time when his mind could not be quiet. When he was surrounded by too much history, he turned to a man who could not remember his own. 

A shadow shifted over the wall of lighted golden windows in front of the king’s bathtub. 

“Heard you were callin’ for me, your Majesty.”

“Mm,” T’Challa hummed, before opening one of his eyes, a smile coming to his lips at the sight of his companion. “Must you be so formal White Wolf, I’ve had enough of bowing and blustering today.”

“Well, remind me not to do either.” Bucky Barnes drawled, a smirk coming to his lips. 

“Must I also remind you to call me by my name, when we are alone?” the king murmured, leaning up on his elbows to lift more of his chest out of the water, his attention turned to the man and white clothing he wore, his amputated arm covered in a form-fitting material “My dear sister has you dressed like a hospital patient today, again.” 

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, giving a little laugh as he looked down his feet. It had not gone past T’Challa’s notice that his gaze did not linger too long. How very respectful. “Y’know, Princess says somethin’ and it’s kinda just easier to go with her.” 

T’Challa snorted at that. “Yes, that is something the kingdom can agree on. Do you plan on standing there for the remainder of the night?”

“Do you plan on me stayin’ the night?” he challenged, the hope in his tone not missed. 

“You give me a modicum of quiet...and for that, I’d ask you to stay,” T’Challa said simply, lifting his hand to the other. “And to join me.”

Bucky visibly hesitated. As he usually did when the king made a move to further their silent agreement. He was a good companion, just for his quiet presence. Though they’d become closer over their nights together, though...this was, admittedly, a step.  

The soldier was at the same time so strong and so fragile, T’Challa did nothing more than invite, and hope. 

“Well, now, how can I say no to sweet talk like that.” Bucky chuckled with that crooked grin on his face, finally moving from the door frame and into the room. 

T’Challa’s eyes stayed on him as he walked around the edge of the tub, and with an encouraging nod, the soldier removed his thin white shirt. His hand went to the pull the drawstring of his pants. Only then did the king’s gaze fall away, to the intricately tiled rim of the tub, as water sloshed over it. 

“Must’ve been a hell of a day, if you’re gonna be this forward.” Bucky teased, tilting his head as he looked over. 

“Yes, it must have been.” he murmured, lifting his arm until his companion slipped through the water and into his hold. 

“Mm, much better” the panther purred, reaching up to run a hand through the lank hair along Bucky’s face, brushing it behind his ear. His fingers were warm against the pale skin of his neck and his jaw. He traced along the faint shade of pink coloring the other’s cheek. “Tell me, of you, and your recovery.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Like you haven’t heard every glowing report on your sister’s work.” 

T’Challa would not deny this. 

The guilt he’d felt at wanting the man before him dead only subsided by helping his recovery. He’d spent much of his life not having a choice in what he’d done. “Astute as ever...yes, I’ve been following your progress.”

“Understatement of the year,” Bucky murmured, turning his head so T’Challa’s gentle hand fell down his neck, tracing his collarbones, “You’ve been helping put me back together.”

The king’s movements became rueful, tracing over the place where Bucky’s form came to an abrupt stop. His gaze moving to the blue eyes, to see if he would recoil. 

But...this time... there seemed to be no fear in them. 

And nothing to fear. 

“She’s talking about building me a new one.” Bucky’s voice was low, almost as reverent as the touches across his skin. 

T’Challa traced the gray material that kept what was left of his old prosthetic encapsulated. It did not darken at the water, nor feel as soft and inviting as the flesh of his chest, or cause the reaction  to the lightest of pressure down his ribs as the king’s hands disappeared beneath the water. 

“Is that something you want, dear one?” T’Challa murmured, his grip coming around Bucky’s waist, pulling him close at last, forgoing all pretense and bringing the soldier up into his lap.  

“Well, I was gonna say it might be nice to touch and feel with it again,” Bucky chuckled, because it didn’t seem to need saying. His hand moved from T’Challa’s shoulder to the back of his neck, playing with curls there, so close their noses nearly bumped together. 

“You seem to touch as well as any man” the king smiled, a large hand sliding down his companions back, pressing them ever closer together. Until it was evident how very much he craved his companion. 

And a flush crept up along his White Wolf’s chest. 

“Glad you seem to think so,” he hummed, finally tilting his chin up to meet the dark eyes of the king, before closing the distance between their lips. 

Only the exhaustion of today and the comfort of his companion kept T’Challa from surging into the kiss and claiming what he so desperately needed. Bucky had been through a great deal, more than he could even remember. And if it meant making their dance a slow and cautious one, the panther would do it. 

He had spent hours lingering between words. Trading breaths and stealing kisses as his hands traced the lines of his body up and down beneath the water. He could be patient. 

Though, it seemed, his beloved companion could not. 

The pale hand trailed down his chest, bold as he’d ever been, causing T’Challa to jostle him in his lap as he felt rough fingers wrap around them both. 

Before Bucky could open his mouth to ask if this was alright; if it was a step too far, water cascaded down his shoulders, a firm grip settled in his long hair. Demanding he continue, demanding more of his mouth. 

Both of their movements were sloppy, disturbing the bubbles as they pressed together, T’Challa’s hips to thrust up into the hand around him, his own gripping the round of Bucky’s ass to keep him close. 

Frantic. Needy. So long in the making, it could not last long enough. Just to let the king leave his mark along his companion’s neck, tugging his hair back to lift his chin. 

Until they collapsed into one another, the water clouding between them. 

The king was first to pull back enough for the trailing kisses, enough to speak. 

“Anything that you need, you shall have, you are in my keep, James.”

Bucky made a soft sound, slumped against him. 

“...doesn’t feel like I need anything else.”

 

 


End file.
